Return
by reedus fan
Summary: Murphy disappeared without a trace when he was 10 years old. Six years later & Connor and Ma are still searching for him, still heartbroken, still desperate to find him. A teenage boy who looks eerily like Murphy is finally identified as possibly being the missing youth, but is it him? What has he been through? And can they help him heal? (There will be a shifting timeline)
1. Heartache

Disclaimer: I do not own The Boondock Saints, nor the wonderful MacManus brothers. Unfortunately.

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Connor MacManus sat listening to his mother on the phone, hearing the quiver in her voice, seeing the tears stream down her cheeks, watching her break down once again. And once again, he was powerless to stop it. He'd give _anything_ to go back in time to that fateful day almost six years ago, the day that changed everything, the day he wished had never happened. The day he had failed his brother.

He should have been there, by Murphy's side, where he belonged. If he had been there, Murphy would be home right now, safe and sound. But Murphy was gone in the blink of an eye and Connor didn't know how to find him, or where. He hadn't been able to protect his twin, his best friend, his other half. He should have been there.

But he hadn't been there when it mattered most, when Murphy needed him most desperately...when Murphy had been alone and vulnerable, probably terrified beyond belief. When someone had taken him away to only God knows where. Connor was supposed to protect Murphy, watch out for him, make sure he didn't get hurt. But he had failed. And for that, he'd never forgive himself...he just couldn't.

So he sat listening to his Ma on the phone, feeling the pain radiating from her soul.

"It's been almost six years. I don't know if I can talk about it again & not lose my mind," she quietly confessed, turning away from Connor in an attempt to shield him from her agony. "My heart breaks more every day that I'm without him. The pain is unbearable."

Connor saw his mother's shoulders slump & she nodded, quietly accepting whatever words were said on the other end of the phone. "What is it that you're asking?"

She sighed, relenting, her voice suddenly sounding flat. "Fine, I'll be there within an hour."

Annabelle MacManus hung up the phone, her hand lingering on the receiver as she composed herself before turning to her oldest twin. "Get your coat, Connor. The police want to talk with us again."

Annabelle knew better than to leave without Connor, she had tried that in the beginning, to spare him whatever horror he might be exposed to. But she learned quickly that the horror he imagined was just as terrifying, just as haunting, just as damaging as the reality of the situation. So she decided that he needed to know anything and everything that happened, good and bad.

The problem was, there was nothing to be known. _Nothing._ Not one thing was found in the nearly six years that had passed. No sightings, no evidence, no trace.

_No Murphy_.

Annabelle & Connor were ushered into an interrogation room, Detective Ron Jennings joining them without delay, passing coffee to the woman & hot chocolate to the boy. They had grown to know each other over the past six years, in a way that no person should have to get to know the other, in circumstances no parent should have to endure. In her eyes he saw the raw emotion & undeniable pain and he dropped his head briefly before looking into her son's eyes, seeing the exact same look, the exact same pain, the exact same sense of loss. Mother and son waited patiently for the detective to begin.

It always started the same, the detective's words gentle, reassuring. "I haven't given up. I'll never give up until I find him."

She nodded, "I remember your promise, Ron." They had been on a first name basis for the past 6 years, it seemed ridiculous to be otherwise, seeing as their lives had become so intertwined.

Ron thumbed a folder that was full of papers, its edges worn from time, his hesitation hanging in the air. Annabelle knew that folder and what was inside...the story of her son, his disappearance, her Murphy. She held her breath as he opened the folder, and she bit her lip as a single tear ran down her cheek.

"Ma, please don't cry," Connor quietly begged, his voice shaky & quiet. She turned to look at him, seeing his eyes also filling with tears, his struggle to not cry unsuccessful as hot tears leaked down his cheeks.

She reached up & brushed away his tears, leaning in to kiss him on his forehead, knowing his pain was equal to her own. After all, Connor was Murphy's fraternal twin brother & he missed him just as desperately. And for the past six years, she had listened to Connor cry himself to sleep every single night, his pain unrelenting, torturous and still raw. Connor was lost without Murphy.

Annabelle took Connor's hand in her own, lacing their fingers together, and she nodded to the detective, giving consent. Ron turned the page & Annabelle's eyes dropped to the folder, knowing what she would see but unable to stop herself from looking.

_Murphy... _

Her smiling 10 year old son looked back at her through time, his smile just as brilliant and beautiful as the day that picture was taken.

_Murphy... _

His blue eyes had a mischievous glint and Annabelle smiled through the tears, remembering that when the picture had been snapped, Murphy had just soaked his brother with a water balloon that he had hidden behind his back. He had been so proud of himself at that moment, he rarely got away with tricking Connor, but this time he had succeeded, and his face was beaming with pride.

_Murphy... _

The little boy who broke into a fit of giggles right after that moment was frozen on film, unable to contain himself any longer. He was a beautiful child, a ten year old little pissant, and he was hers. But that was long ago.

Her smile faded as she glanced at his twin brother. Connor had grown a lot in the past 6 years & he was turning 16 in a couple weeks…..as was Murphy. Only Murphy was frozen in time on film, his smile one of a young child, not a young man. Connor was shaving, his shoulders had broadened, his body grew. Connor had long ago put away the toys of childhood. But Murphy remained in her memory as a 10 year old little boy, unchanged, small and innocent.

Annabelle couldn't help but wonder what her Murphy would look like now, how he had changed, how similar he & Connor would look and act. If he still had the same smile.

Connor turned to his mother, his eyes narrowed with conviction. "He's alive, Ma."

She nodded, not entirely convinced, even though every fiber of her being wanted to believe her son.

Connor continued, his voice now steady & filled with certainty. "I'm his twin brother, I can feel it. He's alive, Ma, he is. We just have to find him."

Annabelle thought back six years, thought back to when her children were young, thought back to the day her baby disappeared, to the day when Murphy was taken away from her. From them.

And she began to cry.


	2. Hope

It seemed like just yesterday.

Annabelle had sent her boys to school that day with a kiss on their cheeks, watching them from the window as they walked away from their home, pushing & kicking each other, laughing and waving to her before they rounded the corner. She hadn't known then that this would be the last glimpse of Murphy that she would see.

Hours later the police were at her door, a wailing Connor in the squad car, his face drenched in tears, his hysterical sobbing heard through the closed car window. Did she know where her son was, had Murphy come home, did she have_ any_ idea where he could be? And the scariest question of all, did she know of anyone who would want to hurt him?

That's when her world turned upside down, her sense of safety evaporated and time seemed to stop dead in its tracks. She couldn't think, she couldn't move...she couldn't breathe. One of her children was missing. Her baby was gone.

It had been Murphy's turn to put away the schoolyard equipment, the balls, the jump ropes, the toys. Connor wanted to help, he'd even started to pick up some balls when the teacher scolded him. It was Murphy's turn, not Connor's, and Murphy was to do it himself.

"I'm fine, Connor. I can do it," Murphy quietly insisted in a soft voice. "I'm not a baby, you know."

"I know, Murph," Connor said gently. "I just thought it'd be faster with the two of us doing it, s'all."

"But it's _my_ turn, I'm s'posed to do it myself. You'll just get us both in trouble if you stay & help me."

Connor knew Murphy was right. If he stayed, they'd both face discipline, the school might even send a note home to Ma. But for some reason, Connor felt like he should stay with his brother. It didn't make sense, but he didn't want to leave him alone. But Murphy was giving him _the look_, the look that said he was fine, quit babying him, he'd only be a few minutes behind Connor.

So while the other students filed into the school, Connor reluctantly joined them, leaving Murphy alone outside to begin the chore. With a final look over his shoulder at his dark-haired twin, Connor waved to Murphy who smiled & waved back.

But 15 minutes later, Murphy still hadn't returned to class & the teacher had gone looking for him. What she found was the schoolyard equipment scattered across the playground, untouched, nothing put away. And Murphy was simply gone.

The principal questioned Connor, thinking this was a usual MacManus trick, but quickly realized from his frantic crying that this was no trick. They quickly searched the school grounds but found nothing. That's when they called the police.

The entire community searched for Murphy throughout the night and into the following weeks. Television crews set up in their front yard & she and Connor gave hundreds of interviews, begging for any information on Murphy, pleading with whoever took him to just let him come home. The days blended into the next, one long unending nightmare that neither mother nor son could wake from. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months with no trace of the missing boy. Finally, the tv crews slowly left one by one & the community moved on.

But Annabelle & Connor didn't move on. They still looked, still hoped, still prayed through sleepless nights, gallons of tears & unending heartache. They'd never give up on Murphy, not ever.

Detective Jennings also refused to give up. Long after his colleagues told him he was wasting his time, that the boy would never be found, he was a lost cause, he still refused to give up. This was a good family, a loving family, and he wouldn't give up on them until he found Murphy MacManus. He promised them that very first night that he'd never stop looking. And every night since, he prayed he would find the child alive.

Every week since Ron Jennings made that promise, he'd take out the MacManus file & he'd look at that missing child, he'd look into those blue eyes, he'd review the facts and try to uncover new leads. And every month he phoned his mother, telling her he hadn't given up on her boy, he never would...but no, he was sorry, there was nothing new to report. And every month, he listened to her cry.

Now a long six years had passed, time had marched on, and still they had no trace of Murphy. He was just...gone. But Ron Jennings wasn't about to give up, no matter how much time had passed, he'd never give up, not until he brought Murphy home to his mother & brother.

"Annabelle, Connor. I have something to talk to you about," Ron began, snapping Annabelle back from her torturous thoughts. "I'm sorry I didn't consult you first. I should have asked your permission, but…."

Annabelle wiped her face with her shaky hand, "Ron, please. You don't have to consult with me about anything you do to find my Murphy."

Ron nodded, pausing. "Thank you, I appreciate your faith." He took a deep breath & continued, "I met with someone recently, a kind of sketch artist."

Neither MacManus responded, they sat quietly waiting for the detective to explain how a sketch artist could help them find Murphy when there had been no witnesses, no suspects & no leads.

"Well actually, more than a sketch artist if truth be told. This woman does amazing work, it's called age progression. Have you heard of it?"

Annabelle shook her head no but Connor responded, "Isn't that where they take a picture of someone when they were young & make a drawing of them looking older?"

"That's exactly what she does. With incredible results."

Annabelle leaned forward in her chair, her eyes flickering with something Ron hadn't seen in a very long time. It was hope.

"Would she be able to do that for Murphy? To age him from 10 to 16?" She held her breath, waiting for an answer, praying he would say yes. She didn't have to wait long.

"Yes, she'd be able to do that for Murphy. In fact, I took the liberty of giving her his pictures, as well as pictures of both you & Connor."

"Why us?" Connor asked, confused.

Ron explained that family resemblance would play a large part in determining how a 16 year old Murphy would look. And there'd be no stronger family resemblance than Connor, his fraternal twin brother.

Annabelle dropped her head, her voice shaky as she spoke. "I don't care how much it costs. I'll mortgage my house to pay her, Ron. Just please have her do the picture. _Please." _

Ron reached out & covered her hands with his, bending his head to look into her eyes. "Annabelle...she doesn't want any money. She heard about Murphy years ago and she remembers you & Connor from tv. All she wants is to help find Murphy. She won't take any payment of any kind."

Connor wrapped his arms around his mother as her body shook with sobs, burying his head into her shoulder. She reached up & clutched tightly to her son, kissing his head. "She's an angel from Heaven, that's what she is. An angel sent here to help us find your brother."

"Aye, Ma, that she is," Connor whispered through his tears.

Annabelle looked up at the detective, a small smile of gratitude on her face. "Thank you, Ron."

He returned her smile, "I just want to find your son, Annabelle. The pictures we have of Murphy aren't really useful anymore. We need a picture of what he might look like _now, _not from when he was 10. I'll be releasing his picture to the media & I promise you, I'll have his face everywhere. It'll be on tv, in the newspapers, in stores. _Everywhere_."

"How long will it take her to do the picture?" Connor quietly asked. He always had to have a plan, a time frame, details.

"It's already done."

"It's done?" both Connor & Annabelle said in unison, excitement in their blended voices.

"Yes," Ron answered, his hand patting Murphy's file that rested on the table. "I have it in this folder."


	3. Trapped

Murphy woke up alone, face down on the dirt floor, his limbs sprawled in all directions. He was cold, chilled to the bone, although his body was not shaking just from the cold temperature. He was scared..._sooo_ scared.

He sat up slowly, looking around with terrified eyes, tears welling up & clouding his vision. His chin quivered as tears began to run down his face, leaving streaks down his cheeks. He tasted blood & the side of his face throbbed, pounding in time to the fast beat of his heart. He lifted his hand to his cheek, wincing at the pain his soft touch caused, that was where the big man first hit him...in the playground.

He tried to stand, his legs rubbery & almost unable to hold his weight, but somehow he managed to get to his feet. That's when he noticed his clothes had been removed, he was wearing only his briefs, even his socks were missing. He licked his lips, tasting more blood, and he ran the back of his hand across his mouth, bright red blood covering his fingers. The second hit from the man had been a backhand across his face & he remembered biting his lip when he was struck.

Murphy barely remembered the third hit, it got blurry after the second hit to his face, but he knew the third one had come in the car as they were racing away from the school. Away from Connor. That hit knocked him out cold & he hadn't woken up until just a few minutes ago.

His eyes scanned his surroundings, desperately darting around the room, sensing the danger he was in. Dirt floor, no windows, a dirty blanket, stairs leading up, one lone light on the ceiling. Stairs...leading up...stairs...to freedom.

His mind screamed _GO! _and his legs took flight.

Murphy ran up the 10 steps, a wooden double door was over the top of the stairs, blocking his escape. He reached up & pushed against it. He was pretty sure he was in some sort of root cellar & the earthy, musty smell filled his nose as he felt the door give a bit. It was heavy & he pushed with all the strength he had in his 10 year old body.

There was a rattle of a chain and the door opened, but only slightly, and he felt the cool rush of fresh air hit his face as a sliver of sunlight appeared through the opening. He pushed his shoulder into the door, holding it open as he wormed his hand through the tight opening, his fingers feeling the rusty chain looped around the handles of the door. He pushed as hard as he could but the door refused to budge. He tried to push more than his hand out the opening, but the opening was too small & he pulled his hand back inside, the wood digging into his skin, causing long bleeding streaks.

The door thumped closed, shutting out the sun, and he stood there for a moment, listening for any sound at all, but hearing nothing. He slowly walked back down the steps, not knowing what to do, and he stood in place, feeling more alone than he had ever felt in his life. He wasn't used to being without Connor, he always had Connor nearby, usually within earshot, but now...he was on his own & that scared him.

He was shaking harder & he moved to the far corner, sitting in the dirt, his back pressed against the wall. He drew his legs close to his chest & he wrapped his arms around his legs, pressing his forehead into his knees. Tears started again as he rocked in place, begging God for help. _Please. _

He tried not to cry...he tried to be brave. He was a big boy, he was 10...but he was terrified. And alone without his twin.

He wanted his mom. He wanted Connor. He wanted to go home where it was safe, where they both were...he just wanted to go _home. _

The loud rattle of the chain. The door pulled open. Heavy footsteps down the stairs.

Murphy lifted his head & squinted against the light that filtered into the room, the big man looking even bigger from his position on the floor as the man towered over him, his face dark as the light shone behind him.

"Get up, boy," the man commanded as Murphy cowered, trying to make himself as small as possible. "I said get up!"

When Murphy didn't move, the man reached for him, grabbing his thin arm in a bruising grip, roughly pulling him to his feet as his fingers dug into his flesh.

"When I tell you to do something, _boy_, you fucking do it. Do you understand!?" Then he shook Murphy. Hard.

Murphy felt his head snap back & he closed his eyes tight, expecting another hit from the burly man. But the hit didn't come, instead he was shoved to the ground, his knees slamming into the dirt, small pebbles grinding into his skin.

The man took a step back & Murphy scrambled across the floor away from him, stopping when he felt the cold wall against his back, finding it oddly comforting as he squatted in the dirt. He looked up at the man, still unable to see his face.

Murphy thought about running, he might be able to get around the man & up the stairs before he could grab him, he might be able to get out. But before he could make a move, a woman slowly came down the stairs, her eyes glued to the frightened child, a strange smile forming on her lips.

The man backed up as the woman approached, and she passed a paper plate & cup to the man. The man was now blocking the stairs with his body & Murphy knew that opportunity for freedom had passed, he'd never get past him.

The woman moved closer to the boy, being careful not to make any sudden moves, drawing his attention away from the man guarding the stairs. She mimicked his position & squatted in front of him, her smile wider as she cocked her head, examining his face. Murphy's back was against the wall, he couldn't back up any further, he was trapped...his lip quivered again as he tried not to cry, his blue eyes filling with tears as he stared at her.

"He's scared," she softly said, "You scared him."

The man sounded condescending as he mumbled back, "Of course he's scared. Did you really think he wouldn't be scared?"

She ignored his response & reached for Murphy, her hand trying to touch his face. Murphy flinched away from her before her fingers could make contact, dropping his head & staring at her through his dark eyelashes as tears leaked from his eyes.

She lowered her hand & quietly said, "You hit him too hard. He's bleeding. And he'll bruise."

"I had no choice. He fought me," the man reported, his voice flat & cold, annoyed. "He got what he deserved."

"He's so little. You didn't have to hit him that hard," she scolded, looking over her shoulder at the man. "I told you not to hurt him."

Murphy chanced a glance at the man, finally able to see his face, see his angry scowl as his eyes turned to the huddled boy on the floor. Murphy felt ice cold fear coarse through his body & he quickly looked away as the woman turned back to study him once again.

Her attention focused on the small, shivering boy in front of her, her voice soothing. "It's okay...I won't hurt you, sweetheart. I bet you're hungry...aren't you?"

The man passed the paper plate & cup to the woman & Murphy's eyes darted to her hands, watching as she placed them in the dirt directly in front of him, seeing a sandwich & a red liquid in the cup.

"Peanut butter and jelly," she said with a raise of her eyebrows. She pushed the plate toward him & paused. "Come on...I know you're hungry."

He didn't want to eat anything she brought him but he was so hungry. He thought about it & decided it was better he eat what was given to him, he didn't know if they'd give him anything else again, and he needed his strength if he was going to find a way home to Ma & Connor.

He reached for the sandwich, taking it from the plate & he slowly brought it to his mouth as they both watched him, the man scowling, the woman smiling. He took a small bite, thinking it tasted odd, but he quickly swallowed it and took another bite before they could take it away from him.

"He's so darling. He's just perfect," she quietly said as she pushed the cup toward him with that same creepy smile & he felt a shiver run up his spine. "I hope you like cherry."

He wanted the drink, he knew he needed the drink, he could feel how dry his mouth was. He took the cup in his shaking hand & he took a few sips, thinking she didn't put enough sugar in the drink, it was bitter.

He finished the sandwich as quickly as he could, in silence, being closely watched the entire time. He drank the last of the cherry drink just as quickly, even though it wasn't sweetened enough, and his eyes watched them watch him. They stared at each other for what felt to Murphy like forever, no one moving, no one speaking.

Murphy felt tired & weak, and he struggled to keep his eyes open. He felt his eyes blinking slowly & he looked down at his hand, noticing that his shaking had stopped, even though he was still terrified. His head felt funny & a soft moan escaped his lips.

The woman shifted, moving to sit in front of him & she held her hand out. "Give me the cup," she commanded softly. "Come on, give your mother the cup."

Murphy lifted his eyes to the woman, what had she said? He was trying to figure out why there was three of her in front of him, why everything was moving so slowly, why he felt so weird. His tongue felt thick and he tried to form words, his voice soft. "Yo-ou err not m-m-my mmmmaaa."

He could barely understand his own slurred words, his voice sounded strange, like it was far away, or under water. He didn't understand why his mouth suddenly stopped working, and he slumped against the wall, feeling warm all over.

Murphy felt her hand take the cup from his light grip, her fingers brushing against his skin, placing the cup in the dirt. "That's it, that's a good boy, now."

She pushed his hair from his eyes and he moaned softly, forming only one word. "_nnnnnooooo_."

"Don't talk back to your mother," she scolded, and she wrapped her arm around his shoulders, pulling him away from the wall, taking him in her arms. His head lolled onto her shoulder & she stroked his hair as she began to softly hum. He wanted to lift his hand & push her away but he had no strength, he couldn't even open his mouth to speak. He tried to stay awake, but he felt his eyes closing & he couldn't stop it.

"That's it, you just sleep now. You've had a big day, haven't you? But you're finally home with your mom and I'll never let you go."

The last thing he was aware of was the kiss she placed on his head.


	4. Wake Up

**A/N:** I'm very sorry for the delay in the update. I had family unexpectedly come to town & they were here for almost 2 weeks. It seemed to throw off my momentum but I will do my very best to prevent any further delays. My sincerest apologies.

**Warning** for this chapter: This chapter contains violence & abuse. Please proceed cautiously.

* * *

"He's waking up. If I don't give him something now, it'll be harder to get him to take it later," the big man loudly warned, not even attempting to be quiet.

"No. I want to see how he does. It's been long enough, maybe he'll behave himself this time," came the female reply, her voice much softer than the man's. "I'm tired of him being all drugged up. Let's see if he's a good boy before we give him more."

The man scoffed, "The little fucker better not bite me again."

"He won't. He'll be good for his mom," she confidently said, sitting on the bed next to the child, her hand stroking the side of his face tenderly. "Won't you?"

Murphy struggled to open his eyes, they felt like sandpaper and his head was pounding, the thumping loud in his ears like a bass drum, _thump, thump, thump_. He thought he heard his Ma say to be good, he always tried to be good, it was Connor's fault when he wasn't. Connor always got him in trouble.

"Come on, open your eyes for your mom. That's it."

His eyelids fluttered as he tried to keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his head, focusing on his Ma, on her voice that sounded strangely different for some reason. Her hand felt nice on his face though, she was stroking his skin softly and Murphy liked the way it felt.

"Ma?" Murphy croaked, his throat parched, his voice shaky and weak.

"I told you to call me Mom, not _Ma_," came the terse reply, the hand leaving his cheek as his eyes finally settled on the woman next to him. He inhaled sharply, suddenly wide awake & full of fear, instantly recognizing her from the root cellar. He sat up & moved away from her, toward the other side of the bed, but he stopped when he noticed the big man was standing there. He had nowhere to go, they were on both sides of him..._he had nowhere to go_. Tears quickly filled his eyes & he bit his lip as his body began to tremble.

The woman took a deep breath as she studied him, glancing briefly at the big man before turning her attention back to the boy on the bed. She leaned forward, her hand reaching out to him as she waited to see if he would put his hand in hers. She patiently watched him, her hand extended in the air, as he stared back at her through tear filled eyes, unmoving.

Murphy wanted to bite her, and if she got close enough, he would bite her as hard as he could. It seemed like he bit her before though, he remembered biting someone...it had to be her. No...it wasn't her he bit...it was _him, _the big man. Murphy remembered biting the big man's arm, his teeth clamping onto his flesh with all his strength, trying to take a chunk out of his arm. He remembered the man yelling in pain, he remembered being called a fucking brat, and he remembered being thrown into a wall.

The woman lowered her hand, the creepy smile on her face once again, her eyes barely blinking. "I'm thinking I might have to give you a haircut soon. My little boy has hair that grows so fast." Her hand moved to his hair, pushing it from his eyes. He didn't flinch, he didn't resist, he didn't bite. He was too scared to move, all he could do was shake.

"I know you don't like having your hair cut, but it's about time for a trim whether you like it or not."

Tears ran down his face as she pulled away from him, his lip trembling & sticking out in a pout. He didn't like her touching him, her touch felt creepy, it felt wrong. And he didn't want her cutting his hair either, his Ma had just cut his hair a couple days ago so he didn't understand why this woman wanted to cut it again.

"Stop crying. You're too old to cry over a haircut," she chastised with a stern look, her voice equally firm. When Murphy didn't stop crying, when his tears continued to run from his eyes, the woman looked past him, to the big man.

The man's voice was loud & unforgiving and it held a hint of a promise. "Stop crying boy or I'll give you something to cry about."

But Murphy couldn't stop crying, he tried, but he couldn't stop. He rubbed at his eyes with the palm of his hand but the tears continued. He bit his lip between his teeth, trying to distract himself with pain, but the tears continued. He even thought of how he wanted to be brave, just to make Connor proud, but the tears continued.

Murphy expected to be hit. He waited for the blow to come, he waited for the pain to begin. But it didn't.

Instead, the man took a step back while the woman stared at him, her features suddenly softening as a smile again formed on her face. Her smile scared him, he couldn't tell what she was thinking when she smiled like that.

"I bought my little boy some new clothes yesterday. Now you wait here with your father & I'll go get them." She stood & moved to the door, pausing & looking back at him, "I just know you'll like what I bought you."

Then she was gone. She left him alone with the big man. The big man who was glaring at him.

Murphy didn't want to look at him, he was too fucking scary. So instead, he tried to distract himself by looking at the room he was in. It was obviously a boys room, he noticed trucks & action figures scattered on the floor and on the desk he saw a scattering of crayons & coloring books. The sheets on the bed were Spiderman, as were the pajamas he was wearing, and he wondered whose room this was.

He was puzzled as he looked around. He'd never been here before, but everything seemed familiar and he didn't know how that was possible. He looked at the desk & he just knew the coloring book was zoo animals, he knew it. And he was certain that the desk drawers contained comic books, too. He didn't have to look, he knew they were there.

The big man kicked at a truck that was on the floor, growling "You need to learn to put your toys away. When you're done playing, they're to be put in your toybox where they belong."

Murphy had never seen the toybox before but he knew it was in the far corner, and it was green with lions painted on it. He held his breath as he looked to the corner, his eyes widening at what he saw. There it was, the green toybox with lions painted on it. But how did he know?

"I want to go home," he quietly begged, he didn't like it here, not one bit.

"You are home," came the cheery response from the woman as she returned, her arms full of clothes. "And your mom bought you some new clothes to wear."

She placed the clothes on the bed & motioned to him, wanting him off the bed. But Murphy couldn't move, he was frozen in place, sitting there crying in the Spiderman pajamas. She put her hands on her hips & looked to the big man.

Murphy's eyes went to the man, watching him take a step forward, his movements slow, his mere presence terrifying. Murphy knew if the man reached him before he was off the bed, he'd be in a lot of trouble. And a lot of pain. The man took another step toward the child who was practically cowering, and Murphy winced as he began to move, sliding his legs over the side of the bed. His body felt stiff & sore, his ribs ached & it hurt to take a deep breath. But at least the man stopped moving toward him.

Murphy looked down & that's when he noticed the straps on the bed. There was a large leather strap across the foot of the bed & one at the headboard. He stared at the straps, seeing the leather loops that would go around a person's ankles & wrists, tying that person down. Tying _him_ down.

His eyes moved to his wrists, shocked at the raw red marks on his skin, seeing the matching marks around his ankles. He had been tied down, it had probably hurt...but he didn't remember _any_ of that. But there was the proof, the abrasions on his body that he couldn't deny.

The woman kneeled in front of him, placing her hands on his knees, staring up into his face. He wouldn't look at her though, and she couldn't make him look either. He didn't know why this was happening to him, what had he done wrong?

"You wouldn't be hurt if you weren't so stubborn," she said, like it was his fault they tied him to the bed. "You gave us no choice, we had to tie you down, to keep you safe. I'm your mom, I only want what's best for you."

Murphy thought about his real mom, she'd never tie him to a bed, not for any reason, no matter how bad he was. His real mom took care of him, she was the one who loved him. Not this woman calling herself his mom, not her.

"You're not my M-Ma," Murphy mumbled, tears suddenly cascading down his face as he began to sob, his words in bursts as fear took hold. "I-I wa-ant t-to go-go h-o-ome. I-I wa-ant my-my Ma and-nd C-Con-nor."

"I told you it was too soon," the big man mumbled from behind Murphy. "He's not ready to be off it yet."

"He just needs a little time to adjust. It's a big change for him, but eventually he'll accept what we tell him. We just have to be patient with our boy, he'll come around."

The big man sighed loudly and resigned himself to do what the woman wanted, grabbing Murphy by the collar of his pajamas & lifting him to his feet. Murphy practically fell to the floor, his legs were weak, but the man held him in place.

The woman stood in front of the pair, motioning to the clothing that waited on the bed. "Those are the clothes I want him to wear. Once he's dressed, bring him downstairs & we'll have a nice family lunch." She began to move away but paused, adding as an afterthought, "And try not to hit him again."

Then she was gone & the big man pushed Murphy to the floor, tossing the clothing to the floor in front of him, kicking it with his dirty boot. "Playtime is over, boy. Get dressed."

Murphy's hands were on the floor in front of him & the man placed his boot over the boy's right hand, pinning his fingers underneath. He pressed downward, grinding the boot into the boy's knuckles, causing him to whimper in pain. Murphy's other hand went to the man's ankle, trying to make him stop, his small fingers scratching at his leg desperately.

"Fucking hurts, doesn't it boy?"

Murphy pressed his shoulder against the man's leg, trying to alleviate the pressure on his hand, trying to stop the crushing pain. Without warning, the man removed his boot & stepped back, watching the boy's reaction. Murphy pulled his hand away & clutched it to his body, his head down, rocking in place. His hand throbbed but he didn't think it was broken, although if the man wanted to, he could have easily fractured the bones.

"That's a warning not to fuck around. You do what I fucking say, boy. Now I'm going for a smoke & when I get back you better be dressed. Understand?"

Murphy didn't look up, he didn't respond in any way. He kept his head down & waited. He waited for the man to walk away, to shut the door & leave.

But instead of leaving, the man grabbed a fistful of Murphy's hair & pulled his head back painfully, making Murphy look at him. The man's face was red & the vein in his forehead was bulging underneath his skin as he leaned into the boy's face. Murphy almost gagged. The man was so close that Murphy could smell his body odor…..the man smelled of 3 day old sweat & unwashed socks. But as bad as the man's body smelled, his breath was worse, like a mixture of cigars, stale beer and a crate full of onions.

"You little fuck. Answer me when I talk to you."

Murphy didn't know the question, he didn't know what to say. He stared at the man, his mind replaying the last thing he had said. 'Understand?'

The man pulled back his hand & planted his feet, readying himself to hit the boy.

"I-I understand," Murphy quietly said, his eyes hopeful that his answer would satisfy him, that it would make him stop.

The fingers in his hair loosened, the palm of the hand pushing him away. The man straightened to his full height, glaring downward. "That's better. Now get fucking dressed."

Then Murphy was alone. His eyes went straight to the curtains. He had noticed them when he was on the floor & he quickly got to his feet, trying not to make a sound. The curtains matched the sheets, blue with Spiderman on them, and he pulled them open, eager to escape.

His eyes met wood. The window was boarded up from the outside, nails securing it in place. He dropped his head as tears threatened once again, he'd never get out of here, probably not ever. He thought of his twin, Connor would have had a plan, he'd know what to do, he'd know how to get away. But Murphy was alone, all alone, without Connor helping him. He looked upward, thanking God that Connor wasn't here with him, Connor was safe at home, with Ma.

As he glanced around, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the full-length mirror that hung on the wall. His eyes stared back, blinking slowly, as he moved closer. He looked odd, he looked too skinny, he looked like someone he barely recognized.

The bruises were wrong. He had been hit on the left side of his face, along his cheekbone & mouth, but the bruises weren't there. He had to have bruised, it hurt so bad, he remembered bleeding...he had to have bruised. But instead, there were bruises along his jawline, his other cheek dark purple & swollen. He shook his head, the bruises were completely different.

He pushed his hair from his eyes without thinking. His Ma had just cut it, how could it be this fucking long? It wasn't possible. Unless...

Murphy felt sick, his stomach churned. He'd been drugged, he'd heard them say it when he was waking up. The sandwich...the drink...they'd put something in it. How long had they kept him drugged? How much time had he lost?

His ribs. His ribs hurt. But he hadn't been hit there, they shouldn't hurt.

He took off the pajamas, scared to look at his body. He finally lifted his eyes, he had to see, he had to know. He looked at the mirror, he looked at his discolored body, a whimper escaping his mouth. Along both sides of his ribs & back he had multi-colored bruising, deep purples mixed with greens & yellows, the bruises in various stages of healing.

He jumped when the door opened, the woman poking her head inside to check on him, her eyes searching the room until she found him by the mirror. "Apparently I can't trust you to get dressed by yourself."

She picked up the clothes from the floor, holding them out to him, and he gingerly took them from her hands. She watched him dress, her face scrunching up when she saw the clothing was too large for the boys thin build. She grabbed him by the collar, pulling the shirt open in the back to check the size.

"If you hadn't fought us so much, I could have taken you with me to the store & got you something that fit. But it'll have to do for now, at least until I can trust you enough to take you out in public."

He was led from the room and made to sit at the kitchen table, the woman turning her back on the boy as she continued to prepare their lunch. She was humming quietly, she wasn't watching him, she wasn't paying attention...this was his chance.

The door was open, he could see outside, it was so close.

He stood & carefully walked to the door, his bare feet making no sound. He pushed at the door & it quietly opened, he didn't need much room to squeeze through, and in a second he was out the door. He glanced around and then he ran. He ran as fast as he could, rounding the side of the house & moving to the street. He'd run all the way to town if he had to.

Just as he was about to clear the house, he ran into a solid wall that was the big man. His momentum stopped abruptly & he fell back onto his butt with a graceless thud. Before he could react, the man's meaty paw was in his hair, dragging Murphy back to the house.

Murphy screamed, Murphy fought, Murphy kicked. Murphy tried everything he could. But he was no match & he was dragged back inside, the man throwing him to the floor. Murphy skidded across the linoleum, his body slamming into the cupboard painfully as the man moved toward him.

The woman stood watching, her eyes on the boy as he looked at her, his eyes pleading for help. Her expression was blank, her eyes vacant, and Murphy clenched his eyes shut as the man pulled him to his feet, only to hit him so hard that Murphy fell back to the floor. The man repeated this once more, Murphy's blood running down his chin as he curled into a ball, praying it wouldn't last long.

"He's had enough," the woman said, "Bring him to the table."

He was dragged by his hair back to the table & shoved into the chair, the woman coming over with a wet dishtowel, placing it to his mouth.

"It's your own fault you got hit. We were going to have a nice family lunch but you just couldn't behave," the woman explained, her tone patient as she tried to stop the bleeding. "You need to learn to be good. You need to listen."

"He'll listen if he wants to keep that twin brother of his safe."

Murphy's eyes widened, no, not Connor, God no. He felt panicked, he couldn't let them hurt Connor, he'd do anything to keep him safe, anything at all.

The woman watched his reaction, seeing the panic in his eyes, feeling the desperation in the boy. She removed the towel from his mouth, holding his head in place by his chin & looking into his eyes.

"You want to keep Connor safe, don't you?"

Murphy felt like he couldn't breathe, his heart would surely stop if Connor got hurt because of him. He nodded in response, yes, he wanted to keep Connor safe.

"That's a good boy," she grinned, her voice dripping with saccharine. She released his face & went to the cupboard, taking out a small dark bottle & a tablespoon. She poured the liquid into the spoon & held it out in front of his mouth. She didn't say anything, she just waited.

He stared at the spoon, he knew what it was, it was the drug that made him lose time, it was the drug that made him not know what was happening, it made him behave. But it was also the drug that would keep Connor safe.

He opened his mouth, blinking back his tears, and he swallowed the bitter liquid.


	5. Realization

He opened his eyes to darkness. At first, he wasn't even sure his eyes were actually open, thinking maybe they had blinded him somehow, but then he lifted his head & saw the thin beam of light coming from under the closed door across the room.

He tried to move, he wanted to get close to that light, but he quickly realized he was tied down, his ankles & wrists secured tightly to the bed by leather straps. He pulled on them, the bindings digging into his tender flesh, crying out in pain as his damaged skin was ripped open. He felt the warm stickiness of his blood as it dripped from his wrists and ankles, pooling on the sheets below his limbs.

Murphy was alone. In the dark. And he was scared.

He had always been scared of being alone, but especially at night. Often, Connor would let him sleep in his bed, just because Murphy was so scared. Or Connor would climb into his twin's bed, he'd hold him to calm his shaking, staying awake until Murphy would drift off to sleep. More often than not, they'd end up in the same bed...all because Murphy was scared of being alone in the dark.

Murphy never could explain why he was so scared, or what it was about being alone at night that gave him the chills. He just didn't know why, it was just something he couldn't explain, not even to Connor. He had tried to figure it out, Connor had even tried, but neither boy knew why one twin was haunted by this fear & the other was not. So they found a way to deal with it, together. Whenever Murphy was afraid, Connor was there.

Except now. Connor wasn't here. And Murphy was terrified. Not just of the dark, not just of being alone, not just because he wasn't safe in his bed at home, where he belonged. He was terrified about what they were planning on doing to him, what they had already done that he couldn't remember, what they would do to Connor if he didn't do obey.

Connor_. _

The big man had said Murphy needed to be good, he needed to listen to them, if he wanted to keep Connor safe. And he wanted, _he needed, _to keep Connor safe, no matter what. He had to protect him, he had to make sure they didn't go after him, he couldn't let Connor get hurt. He'd die to keep Connor safe.

There was no noise, only his own quiet breathing and when he moved, the occasional rattle of the metal buckles on the bindings that held him down. His eyes looked around in the dark, unable to see anything other than that bit of light beyond the door. He wished the window wasn't boarded up, then at least he'd have some kind of light to help him see, instead of this complete blackness that seemed to get darker by the second.

He felt the terror move over him, like a shadow or a dark cloud, it seemed to grab at him and choke him. If he was home, he'd be with Connor and he wouldn't be scared. But Connor wasn't here. And Murphy wasn't home.

He closed his eyes & pretended Connor was in the room with him, he made believe he could hear his brother's soft breathing as he slept. He imagined Connor smiling at him, telling him everything would be okay, he could almost hear his soothing voice, _'Connor's here, Murph. I'm right here.' _

Murphy opened his eyes, "Conn? Connor?"

For a brief moment, he really thought he had heard his twin talking to him, comforting him. But when there was no response, harsh realization flooded the boy. Murphy knew Connor wasn't here and all the pretending in the world wouldn't change where Murphy was right now. Alone in a strange place tied to a bed. Alone in the dark. Alone and scared.

Murphy struggled to keep his breathing even, trying not to panic as he pulled again at the leather straps. If he could just get free, he'd feel a little better, he just knew it. But the straps didn't give, on the contrary, they seemed to tighten around his wrists, causing his hands to numb.

His breathing sounded loud in the room, he felt lightheaded & sick to his stomach. He didn't want to cry, he was trying to hold it in, but he couldn't stop it from happening. Hot tears leaked from the outside corners of his eyes, running into his hair as he softly weeped.

Murphy lifted his head when he heard footsteps approaching, his eyes glued to the light under the door. A shadow stopped on the other side of the door, hesitating briefly before the soft squeak of the doorknob was heard.

As the door began to open, Murphy dropped his head back on the bed & closed his eyes, feigning sleep. He heard the click of the overhead light & he listened as the soft footsteps of the woman approached, almost cautiously. She stood next to the bed for what felt like forever & Murphy wondered why she was just standing there.

"I know you're not asleep."

Shit, how'd she know?

He felt the bed shift as she sat next to him & he slowly opened his eyes, squinting against the harsh light, unable to see. When he was finally able to focus, he was met by her smiling face as she leaned over him, her eyes staring with an intensity that frightened him. He wanted to pull back, she was too close, he wanted to move away, _she was too fucking close. _

He watched as her hand moved from the bed toward his face, her finger wiping at the wetness that was still apparent from his crying, her touch soft & tender.

"There's nothing to cry about. You're ten years old, you need to be a big boy & stop all this crying."

Murphy shifted, trying to move away, even just a little bit. His hands pulled on the bindings as he moved, the leather straps pulling tighter than ever before and he couldn't help but cry out in pain. Tears came to his eyes, he couldn't help it, his wrists felt like they were being cut open by a knife.

The woman watched as the tears grew, she watched as the boy's lip quivered, she watched as the tears overflowed his eyes & ran into his hair once again. Her finger gently wiped away the tears & she began to hum a soft tune that Murphy recognized from that first day in the root cellar.

When the pain in his wrists subsided, he was finally able to stop his tears & she sat back, her eyes moving to his wrists as she shook her head. "I see now why you're crying. But if you didn't pull so much, the straps wouldn't hurt you. I told you last week to stop pulling on them. You need to listen to what I tell you and stop hurting yourself."

_Last week?_ It felt like just an hour ago that he had willingly swallowed the drug she held out in front of him. How long had he been here? How long?

The woman's hands were on the straps at his wrists, undoing the binding carefully & alleviating the pressure, the blood flow returning to his numb hands. When his wrists were finally free, she moved toward the foot of the bed, toward the ankle straps. She was methodical as she began to undo the binding, Murphy sitting up & watching her, trying to learn how to do it in case he ever got the opportunity.

She next took him down the hall to the bathroom, washing & then bandaging his ankles & wrists before moving on to wash his face. Her touch was soft, it was actually caring, and Murphy really didn't mind it this time, even when she started humming that same tune.

She set clothes on his bed when they returned to the room, clean underwear & socks, blue jeans, a new pair of sneakers & a light green t-shirt with the number "10" on it. She squatted in front of him, holding his forearms in her hands, carefully avoiding his enflamed wrists, and told him to change his clothes & play in his room until she came back.

He tested the door after he was sure she was gone, not surprised to find it locked. But at least he wasn't tied to the bed any longer. He glanced around the room and quickly moved to the mirror, he wanted to see if the bruises were any different this time.

The first thing he noticed was that his hair was shorter...and it was cut a little different, his ears showing more than when his Ma cut it. He didn't like the way it looked, it looked _different, _he didn't want his ears showing. When he was seven, Connor told him he had Dumbo ears & ever since, he kept his hair over his ears. But now they were showing & he didn't like it.

The bruises along his jaw & cheekbone were still there but they had faded & were now a sickly snot-colored green. He had a couple new bruises around his eye but they weren't the worst he had seen since he was taken, he must not have fought so much this time.

His body wasn't much different, mostly old bruises mixed with a couple new ones, predominately over his ribcage. He poked at them curiously, it was strange to have bruises and not know how or why they were inflicted.

He moved to the bed & pulled on the clothes she had left for him. And even though they were far too big, it actually felt good to wear regular clothes, it felt almost normal.

Murphy looked around the room, feeling a strangeness that he couldn't explain. It was all so familiar, like his hands had touched everything, like he had sat on the floor & played with the toys. He went to the desk, wanting to see if the coloring book was what he thought it was, what he seemed to remember somehow.

Zoo animals, just like he thought. He leafed through the pages, stopping when he found one that was already colored, and his mouth opened in shock when he saw '_Murphy'_ written on the page in his own handwriting. He quickly found other pictures that were colored, his name again scrawled at the bottom, just like he always did when he finished a picture.

It all finally made sense. Everything was familiar because he'd spent a lot of time in this room. He had played with the toys. He had colored. He had done these things while drugged, that's why he had no real memory, just flashes of familiarity. That's why.

He wandered around the room, investigating everything, even though he knew exactly what was in the room & exactly where he had left it. He was overwhelmed by the amount of toys, there were so many, far too many for one kid to have and he actually felt guilty that he had played with them, knowing that Connor would have loved to play with him.

He wondered what Connor was doing right now. He thought he could feel Connor crying, deep in his heart...crying over his twin. Murphy tried to push that thought away. No, he wanted Connor to be happy, he wanted him to be playing in the sun, he wanted him to be smiling.

Murphy dropped his head, he knew Connor was crying right now, he just knew it. And there was nothing he could do to stop it. He thought of his brother, his best friend, his other half of his soul. Murphy closed his eyes, trying to somehow let Connor know that he was okay, he was still alive...and he was sorry he hadn't fought hard enough that day on the playground.

He opened his eyes when he heard the door unlocking, the woman looking inside & smiling when she saw him dressed in the clothes she had put out. She motioned for him to follow her & he quietly obeyed, following her down the stairs & into the kitchen.

The big man was sitting at the table, the newspaper open in front of him, and the woman motioned Murphy to the chair next to the man. The man never looked up as the boy sat quietly at the table, the woman behind them finishing preparing the food. Murphy glanced at the newspaper, trying to see a city name, or a date at least. Finally, his eyes caught the date in the upper right corner.

Six weeks...it was almost six weeks that had passed. _Six fucking weeks. _

Murphy's eyes continued to scan the newspaper, not sure of what he was looking for, maybe a story about him being missing, or maybe a picture of Ma & Connor. He prayed he'd see a picture of his family.

"No one's looking for you anymore," the big man said & Murphy lifted his gaze, looking into the coldest eyes he had ever seen. "They stopped a long time ago."

Murphy found his inner strength, if there was anything he knew without a doubt, it was that Ma & Connor would never stop looking for him...not ever.

The man folded the newspaper & tossed it to the counter, watching the boy glare back with defiant eyes and his best '_fuck you'_ scowl. The man nodded slowly, "I have something to show you, just in case you're getting ideas into that stubborn head of yours."

Murphy sat at the table while the man briefly left, returning with a folder. The man smirked at the nervousness in the boy, placing a picture on the table in front of him.

Connor...it was Connor.

"That's your twin brother, isn't it?" he asked, knowing full well it was. "That's from yesterday morning. He was running a little late for school but you'll be happy to know he made it on time."

Murphy looked at the date stamp on the picture...the big man wasn't lying, it was taken yesterday.

More pictures were placed on the table, Connor leaving school, Connor at the store, Connor walking down their street, Connor walking into their house. The final picture was taken through the window & it brought tears to Murphy's eyes. Ma & Connor eating supper.

"They had stew. It was leftovers from the night before."

Murphy couldn't look away from the picture, he could almost reach out & touch them. As silent tears ran from his eyes, he noticed the bowl they had set for him at the table, next to Connor.

_Murphy wanted to go home_.

The man scooped up the pictures, tearing them from Murphy's hungry gaze & Murphy wiped at his face with the back of his sleeve, his tears continuing to fall shamelessly.

"Now you know I'm serious, don't you boy?"

He let the weight of the situation sink into the boy's mind. Murphy wasn't stupid, he knew the big man was threatening Connor, he knew he wasn't bluffing.

"If you want to keep precious Connor safe at home with _Ma_, then you do what we tell you to do, you fucking listen & you fucking behave. Or else it's lights out for Connor."

The soft sound of Murphy quietly snuffling as he tried to catch his breath was the only sound in the room as the man waited, sitting back and watching with enjoyment, his yellow teeth showing as he smiled.

"Do you understand, boy?"

Murphy nodded slowly, his eyes glued to the table.

"I can't fucking hear you. Do you undertand!?"

Murphy took a deep breath, thinking only of Connor, he had to keep him safe, he had to. "Y-yes-s-s, s-s-sir."

The big man raised his eyebrows, he hadn't expected the 'sir' but it pleased him and he nodded to the woman. "I told you all we had to do was find something to motivate him."

The woman placed a tray of sandwiches on the table and she placed her hand on Murphy's head, stroking his hair as the boy continued to cry, his body now shaking as well. "Can we cut back on what we give him now?"

The man paused, contemplating the question, his eyes studying the boy's reaction. "Maybe just a bit. He still has a long way to go before he accepts what we've told him as fact. I don't want to take a chance & have him slip up and ruin everything."

The hand continued to stroke his hair before the woman mumbled a soft, "I suppose you're right." She wiped his face when he finally stopped crying, sitting at the table next to the shaken boy.

Murphy sat at the table with them, he ate with them, he listened as they talked about him like he wasn't there. He heard the big man tell the woman that he wasn't coming along fast enough, he might have to take over & _"condition"_ the boy himself.

The woman was silent, she said nothing, and this scared Murphy more than the man's words.

Murphy could barely eat anything, he had no appetite, his stomach hurt, he felt like he would barf if he ate. He had only taken a couple of small bites from his sandwich, it was salami & he hated salami. It grossed him out.

"You're wasting food," the big man mumbled through a mouthful of sandwich, salami falling from his mouth onto his plate. "You better eat if you know what's good for you."

But Murphy couldn't eat, he just couldn't.

The man leaned forward, his fat finger pointing at the boy. "You either eat that sandwich or I'll _make_ you eat it."

The woman looked at the boy, her hand pushing his plate a little closer. "You heard your father. Eat."

Murphy looked up at her, his blue eyes wide. "I-I can't."

"Yes you can," she quietly responded, "You're too skinny. Now eat." And she pushed at his plate again.

He looked down at the sandwich, knowing how it tasted, and his mouth was suddenly dry. He knew they were both watching him & he slowly took the sandwich, held his breath & took a bite. He chewed as quickly as he could, taking a drink of milk after swallowing to drown the taste. He took another quick bite, this time biting into a hard piece in the lunch meat.

His stomach flip flopped, his mouth froze, the hard piece between his teeth as the taste of salami filled his mouth. He could feel bile rising from his stomach but he couldn't stop it.

Murphy turned his head as vomit spewed from his mouth...onto the big man. A second & third wave of vomit came from the crying boy, again onto the big man.

The woman sprang from her chair, grabbing a towel & wiping at Murphy's face just as he finished retching. He was blubbering an apology, he didn't mean to barf, he was sorry, he didn't mean to.

The man exploded from his seat, grabbing the skinny boy by his shirt & lifting him from the chair. The woman pulled at the man's arm, begging him to stop but he pushed her away, forcing her to the floor.

Murphy was lifted high in the air, his eyes wide as he stared at the man holding him, seeing the unadulterated rage in his eyes, the fury, the savagery he was about to exact on his victim.

Murphy was thrown through the air like a rag doll, hitting the wall in a thud before sliding to the floor in a heap. He had the wind knocked out of him & he struggled to catch his breath as the man loomed over him, slowly lifting him once again.

Blow after blow rained down on the boy, the big man's knuckles red from Murphy's blood, the child screaming in agony as his blood splayed across the floor.

Murphy had been beaten by this man many times since that first day, but none as brutally as this time. Murphy thought of Connor, hoping that one day he might somehow see his twin again, praying that his spilled blood would keep Connor safe, wishing for Connor to be happy without him.

He mumbled his twin's name as he felt awareness start to fade, the pain taking over, blood pouring from his face. The beating was far too much for the weakened boy, he couldn't take anymore. As another blow hit his blood covered face, he gave in & tumbled over the precipice of darkness...Connor the last thing on his mind.

Almost 2 hours away, Connor sat on the porch with his Ma, talking about Murphy. Suddenly, the fair haired twin couldn't breathe, he was gasping for air, his body almost convulsing as he started to shake uncontrollably.

Ma grabbed hold of her boy, yelling to him but he didn't hear her, shaking him but he didn't feel it.

A blood curdling scream erupted from the boy, followed by an agonized wail that formed deep in his soul as he collapsed to the ground, screaming his brother's name.

_"MURPHY!" _


	6. Separation

She couldn't calm him down, she didn't know what was wrong, he wouldn't stop shaking as he lay on the ground gasping for air. His lips turned blue as he struggled in her arms, his face twisted in agony. She tried to soothe him, to comfort him somehow, but she felt her own panic rapidly rising as her oldest twin turned bluer by the second.

She was crying as she held her son, her baby. She couldn't lose another one of her boys.

_God, please, don't take him too...please. _

Annabelle looked up into the eyes of her neighbor, a middle aged man she knew only as Malcolm. He had heard the boy's screams, rushing onto their porch just as Annabelle was on the verge of hysterics. He knelt next to the traumatized boy, grasping his shoulder & he spoke firmly, telling Connor to take deep breaths, calm down, that's it, deep breaths.

After an eternity, the blue in Connor's lips faded, the color came back to his face, his breathing more controlled. But his eyes...his eyes remained wild & fearful as he looked at his Ma, his disorientation obvious.

She continued to cry as she rocked him in her arms, whispering for him to hush, he was safe at home, he was fine.

"Murph?"

As he spoke his twin's name, her heart shattered even more than she thought possible. He was looking at her with complete trust, complete love, complete hope. And utter confusion.

"He's not here, luv," she quietly whispered, her words almost not making it past her lips, her throat tight, her chest heavy with sorrow. "Remember?"

She watched his face change as awareness returned, the memory of that day hitting him like an 18 wheeler going full speed, his features contorting in pain as he looked around desperately for his twin. The floodgate of tears let loose as he finally grasped what his mother said...Murphy wasn't here. Murphy was gone.

Connor remembered.

He tried not to hyperventilate as his body shook with his loud sobs, unable to control himself as his mother clutched him tighter to her body, his wailing muffled as his face pressed into her shoulder. She rubbed his back, she rocked him, she spoke softly in his ear.

Malcolm helped lift the boy back into the chair, going into the house & returning with a glass of water. Connor's hand was shaking too much to hold the glass & Annabelle raised it to his lips, telling him to take a drink.

Connor practically choked on the water, managing to get down only a few sips, his breathing in soft short bursts as his crying slowed. Annabelle wiped at his face, stroking his cheek with her thumb, before softly kissing his forehead. She glanced at Malcolm, mouthing 'thank you' as he nodded & quietly left.

When Connor's shaking had slowed to a tremor, when he looked like he wouldn't break at any moment, Annabelle held his hands, squeezing gently as she asked what happened.

Connor's lip quivered & he took a deep breath, telling Annabelle that someone was hurting Murphy.

A frigid wind blew through her soul with his four simple words. _Someone was hurting Murphy. _

They stared at each other, both sets of eyes distressed at the thought of the youngest MacManus family member suffering in some way, some stranger inflicting pain, with neither of them able to stop it.

She wanted to tell him he was mistaken, there was no way he could know Murphy was hurt, it wasn't possible. But Annabelle knew her boys had a connection unlike any other she had seen in her life, it was special, it was unique. Their connection was irrefutable.

So when Connor told her that someone was hurting Murphy, that he was crying & in pain, she knew it to be true. Even though she wished he was wrong, she prayed he was wrong, she knew in her heart he wasn't wrong. _Someone was hurting Murphy. _

They cried together on the porch the rest of the evening, holding onto each other, asking God to help Murphy. The agony they shared was palpable, it surged through their veins with every pump of their hearts, and Annabelle wondered if a person could die from a broken heart.

When the sun finally set and the sky grew dark, they listened to the crickets & stared at the stars, Connor wondering if Murphy was looking at those very same stars. No, he decided, not tonight, Murphy wouldn't see the stars tonight.

When Connor finally fell asleep, Annabelle carried him to his bed, the young boy emotionally exhausted. She gently tucked him in, kissing his cheek softly, gazing at his face. He looked older than his 10 years, he had grown up a lot in the past six weeks, and she supposed it was inevitable, considering the situation.

She watched her boy sleep, hoping that his dreams would be peaceful but knowing he would wake sometime during the night, screaming for Murphy. It was the same each night, sometime between 3 and 4 am, the screaming would start & she'd have trouble calming him as he begged for his twin. They would end up crying together, night after night, trying to comfort the other.

She had tried to have him sleep in her bed, or even on the couch, thinking that being alone in the room he shared with Murphy was upsetting him. But if anything, sleeping elsewhere exacerbated the problem. He was harder to calm down, his screaming lasting longer & more anguished, his pleading for her to take him to Murphy unending. So she had returned Connor to his own bed in the room he shared with his brother. And when she would find him in Murphy's bed, she'd let him remain there, knowing it somehow comforted him.

Annabelle turned to leave & her eyes fell on the empty bed a few feet away...Murphy's bed. It looked too empty, her child should be sleeping in that bed, he should be home. She slowly walked to the bed, picking up his pillow & holding it to her face. She inhaled deeply, tears springing to her eyes...it smelled like her baby. She sat on the bed, clutching the pillow to her face, breathing in his scent.

She sighed heavily, she'd do anything to have her boy in her arms, to have him home where he belonged. She slowly placed the pillow on the bed, smoothing the pillowcase, her hand pausing at the center of the pillow where Murphy's head would lay. She could almost picture his dark hair against the white pillow, remembering how sweet he looked when she would check on her boys before going to sleep herself.

She sat quietly, thinking of her missing child, when a touch of grey between his bed & the nightstand caught her eye. She reached for whatever was trapped there, her hand feeling the softness of a stuffed animal as she finally pulled it free.

Walter...Murphy's stuffed rabbit Walter. Murphy would carry Walter around with him constantly, he always had him nearby. Walter spent many a meal at the family table, he'd wait patiently on the floor when Murphy took his bath, and when Walter was lost, Murphy had cried his eyes out.

Annabelle stared at Walter. She thought he was gone for good, but here he was, no worse for wear. She placed Walter on Murphy's bed...Murphy would want Walter when he came home and she'd make sure he was here waiting for him.

She quietly left her boys' room, tears running down her cheeks as she made her lonely way downstairs.

* * *

It was a struggle to get Connor to go to school. She had him stay home for weeks when Murphy first went missing, partly because he was so upset & needed to be with his mother, but mostly because she was too afraid to let him out of her sight.

But the boy needed an education, he needed to be with kids his own age, he needed a sense of normalcy. So Annabelle would walk him to school, taking Murphy's place by his side, and she'd watch him until he was safe inside the building. Without fail, she'd be at the school before class was dismissed, walking back home with her son.

School policy had changed as a result of Murphy's disappearance. Teachers were outside when the children arrived & as they left, watching carefully. No child was outside on their own and all the doors of the school were locked once classes began, except for the front door outside the main office.

Connor had begun to argue that he didn't want to go to school, he wanted to go looking for his brother. He was certain he could find him, he just had to look. Murphy was out there somewhere, waiting to be found, waiting for Connor to bring him home. Connor just had to find him, that's all.

Wherever they went, Annabelle would notice his eyes scanning for his twin, pausing to examine every dark haired boy, searching through the crowd. His eyes never stopped. No matter where he was, at church, at the store, in the car...Connor's eyes were looking for Murphy.

His grades began to suffer, his homework wasn't turned in, he failed all his tests. His teachers were understanding & patient, knowing how lost Connor was without Murphy, but when the fighting began, Annabelle had to step in.

Connor was on the brink of suspension, he had begun to pick fights with every boy in school. Annabelle suspected Connor was trying to be suspended, that way he'd be free to go looking for Murphy. When she told him her suspicions, his quick denial was followed by a comment that he needed to look for Murphy more than he needed school.

She let him stay home the next week, taking him wherever he wanted to go just so he could look for his missing twin, her eyes joining his in the search. She prayed that somehow Connor would spot him, they'd even chased down a couple boys that resembled Murphy, but every night they returned home heartbroken, and with no Murphy.

Finally, Annabelle sat Connor down once again, knowing he needed to return to school. She explained to him that they would still go searching, as often as they could, they'd never stop looking. And as Connor began to argue, Annabelle told him that Murphy was missing a lot of school & when he came home, he'd need Connor to help him catch up. And Connor couldn't do that if he didn't go to school.

Connor couldn't argue, he knew Murphy would need him once he was found. So Connor went back to school and he worked hard to improve his grades, to learn as much as he could, just so he'd be able to help Murphy when he came home.

Annabelle kept her promise to her boy. Over the next six years, Connor & Annabelle searched vigorously, expanding their search to neighboring towns, stopping at every farm along the way. They put up posters, handed out flyers, spoke to whoever would listen.

And Connor's eyes never slowed, convinced one day he'd find his brother, his twin, his Murph.


	7. Happy Birthday

Connor was stumbling home from school, blood dripping from his nose from the one lucky punch Tommy McKray got away with, the fucker. Connor had showed him though, Tommy would never say shit about Murphy again.

Tommy used to be his friend, he used to be _their _friend, both Connor's & Murphy's. But in the four years since Murphy disappeared, Tommy hadn't looked for Murphy, not once. All of Connor's other friends would go looking, they'd all take turns walking around town, trying to spot Murphy. Even Tommy's older brother Michael would drive Connor around every once in a while, but Tommy never looked.

Connor didn't understand why Tommy refused to look & he just couldn't be friends with someone who wouldn't help him find his brother. He would be polite to Tommy, say hello and all, but nothing more. Until today.

Today was Connor & Murphy's 14th birthday. And today Tommy told him he thought Murphy was dead.

Connor barely remembered what happened next, but he knows he went nuts, he completely lost it. He knows he pummeled Tommy's face with his fists, he knows he screamed obscenities while he did it, and he knows if Mr. Jones hadn't pulled him off, he'd still be hitting Tommy.

As Connor walked home, wiping his bloody nose on his sleeve & not giving a shit if he stained it, all he could think about was what Tommy said about Murph, the words echoing in his ears, his eyes filling with bitter tears.

_"Murphy's dead, Connor." _

Tommy said it like it was nothing, like it didn't matter, like Murph didn't matter.

_"Murphy's dead, Connor." _

Fuck Tommy. Fuck him for saying that about Murph. Tommy didn't know shit. Murphy wasn't dead, he wasn't…..he couldn't be.

_"Murphy's dead, Connor." _

Connor's mind suddenly pictured Murphy beaten & bruised, he pictured his twin bloody & broken, he pictured his Murph…..dead. He couldn't get the image out of his mind, Murphy staring straight ahead into nothing as someone covered his mangled body with dirt, burying him in an unmarked grave.

He swiped at his eyes angrily, trying desperately to get that image out of his tortured mind. Murphy wasn't dead. Connor knew it, he could feel it, he'd know if Murphy was dead, he'd fucking know it.

Murphy wasn't dead and fuck anyone who said different.

* * *

Connor arrived home to find his Ma sitting at the kitchen table, whiskey bottle in hand, birthday cake in front of her. She looked surprised to see Connor walk in, her eyes looking past him as if hoping to see Murphy trailing behind, like he used to do. A wave of sadness swept over her face at the realization that Connor was alone, there was no dark haired twin with him, Murphy still wasn't walking through that door. Her eyes returned to the cake, staring at it, and she lifted the bottle to her lips, taking a long pull as Connor slowly made his way to his mother.

"They did a nice job this year," she mumbled, her words not yet slurred beyond comprehension, she was still hours away from passing out. "Murphy would love it."

Connor lowered his eyes to the cake, knowing what he would see, and he braced himself. _"Happy 14__th__ Birthday Connor & Murphy" _was written across the top of the cake in purple frosting, Murphy's favorite color. The cake was in the shape of a rabbit & certainly not something a fourteen year old boy would want, it looked too juvenile, but Connor wasn't surprised by his mother's choice. Murphy loved rabbits, at least he used to, and every year their Ma had the bakery make the same thing. The only thing different from year to year was the number on the cake, this year being "14."

"It's a real nice cake, Ma."

She nodded slowly, her eyes not moving, and it wouldn't have surprised Connor if she fell over & died right then and there. Connor was torn, he didn't know if he should stay with her or just leave. He chose to stay.

"Your brother used to love rabbits."

Connor felt sorrow fill his heart at his mother's words. Everytime he saw a rabbit, he thought of Murphy & he wondered if his twin still loved rabbits as much as he used to. He hoped he did. "I remember."

"He's fourteen today, Connor…..fourteen."

Connor didn't know what to say, what do you say to something like that? But he felt like he should say something, so he quietly mumbled, "I know, Ma."

Her response was curt, almost like he had said the wrong thing, "'Course ya do." Connor stood watching her, shifting on his feet, wishing this day was over.

Annabelle lifted the bottle to her mouth once again, whiskey pouring down her throat as she attempted to numb her pain the only way she knew how. She began to drink after that first year had passed, right after the one year anniversary of Murphy's disappearance, and most days her drinking wasn't too bad. But on their birthday, on holidays, and especially on _'that day,' _she tended to drink until she passed out, Connor having to put his mother to bed more often than not.

She lifted her eyes, looking like she was seeing him for the first time since he walked in the door, and she motioned to his face. "What happened? You been fighting again?"

Connor didn't want to lie, but he also didn't want to tell her what Tommy had said, about Murphy being dead. She wouldn't be able to handle hearing those words, even if they weren't true. He decided a lie was better, telling her that his nose started bleeding on the way home, the air being so dry and all. She was inebriated just enough to believe his fabrication, mumbling something about him needing to wash the blood from his face before they had birthday cake.

He backed away slowly, dreading how he knew the rest of his birthday would go…..candles, her singing Happy Birthday to him & Murphy, cutting the cake while she cried, her passing out and Connor cleaning up the mess afterward. All without his twin, all without Murph by his side.

Connor really hated his birthday.

* * *

Connor threw his books on his bed before making his way to his bathroom, peeling his shirt off his body in the process and dropping the garment on the floor. He carefully washed the blood from his face before staring at his reflection, wondering if Murphy looked at all like he did…..did he have the same eyes, the same hair, the same smile…the same _anything. _

Would Connor even recognize him if he saw him again? Or would he walk right by him, not knowing his twin was right there in front of him? Murph could be just some face in the crowd, completely unrecognizable, and Connor might not even know he was there.

He shook that thought from his mind…..he'd know Murph, he'd recognize him no matter how much time passed, no matter how much his brother changed. Murphy is his twin, Connor would know him anywhere.

All Connor wanted in this world was for Murphy to come home. That's all, nothing more. He just wanted to see Murphy walk through the door, he wanted to see his smiling face again, he wanted to wrap his arms around him & keep him safe.

Shit…..he fucking missed his brother.

"Happy birthday, Murph," he quietly whispered, his voice echoing against the tile & almost mocking him. "I miss you."

Connor hoped that wherever Murphy was, whatever he was doing, he would somehow know that Connor was thinking about him. If nothing else, he hoped Murphy knew he loved him.

He stood in place for a few minutes, struggling with his emotions, holding his tears in. When he glanced at himself in the mirror once again, he saw the shadow of what he used to be…..a happy, carefree kid without a worry in the world. But now…..he was half a person with half a soul, drifting aimlessly, grieving his missing twin.

Connor returned to his room, he might as well get this birthday over with as soon as possible. But when he walked past the threshold between the bathroom & his bedroom, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Someone was sitting on Murphy's bed. Tommy…..Tommy was on Murphy's bed. And Tommy was holding Walter.

Tommy heard the scuffle of Connor's shoes & he slowly turned his head, his eyes holding Connor's for only a moment before dropping them to the floor.

"Hey, Connor. Your Ma said I could come up here."

Connor couldn't move, he was too shocked to respond, all he could hear was Tommy's voice haunting him. _"Murphy's dead, Connor." _

Tommy turned his attention back to Walter, moving him in his hands, tugging on his ears. "This is Murphy's, right? I remember he used to like rabbits."

Connor watched Tommy run his hand over Walter's fur, squeezing his stomach. "Wasn't his name Walter, or something? Shit, this rabbit has seen better days, Connor. You should get rid of it."

"Put him down & get the fuck off my brother's bed," Connor practically growled, his defenses up, ready to beat Tommy to a pulp if he so much as moved wrong. "Now."

Tommy had the nerve to look shocked but at least he had the sense to return Walter to his place on Murphy's pillow. Tommy then stood, raising his hands in a defensive posture as he turned to face Connor.

"I didn't hurt anything, Connor. See? I put the rabbit back on Murphy's bed, just where I found it."

Connor felt his hands clench, the skin on his knuckles so tight that it felt like his hands would split open. Walter was back on Murphy's bed but he wasn't where Tommy had found him, he wasn't placed quite right.

"Murphy was my friend, Connor. I miss him too."

Connor scoffed, his need to protect & defend his brother just as strong as it ever was. He pushed Tommy aside & picked up Walter, examining him for any damage, making sure Tommy hadn't ripped the fur or tore the seams. Finding no damage, Connor placed Walter carefully on Murphy's bed, patting it gently before turning back to the intruder.

"For future reference, don't ever touch my brother's stuff again. Especially Walter. Am I clear?" Connor said in as firm a voice as he could muster, his eyes glaring, thankful his voice didn't crack with emotion.

Connor smiled with satisfaction as Tommy swallowed the lump in his throat, his head nodding in response to Connor's directive.

"Now what the fuck do you want?"

Tommy looked like he wanted to be anywhere but in front of Connor MacManus, anywhere at all. "I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry. For what I said about Murphy."

Connor felt his wall come down, but just a bit. After all, Tommy didn't say he was wrong for thinking Murphy was dead, just for saying it out loud to Connor. The boys stared at each other, Connor waiting for Tommy to say something more, but he didn't.

"Anything else?" Connor couldn't help the attitude in his voice and in his posture.

"Just…..that I'm real sorry for what happened to your brother. He was a good kid."

Connor's teeth clenched in his mouth, his jaw so tight that it felt like his teeth would crumble. He didn't miss that Tommy talked about Murphy in the past tense, '_he was a good kid,_' like he was dead or something.

"Let me set you straight, Tommy. Murphy isn't dead. I'm his twin brother & I'd know it if he was dead. Murph's missing, and one day I'll find him & bring him back home. You just wait and see, I'll find him."

"I hope so, Connor, I really do."

Connor said nothing more, he just motioned for Tommy to leave, which he quickly did. Connor stood motionless for a few minutes, his eyes running over his brother's things on his side of the room, all the toys that Murphy would have outgrown by now, the trucks, the army men, the stupid plastic knife he loved so much…..Walter.

Connor picked up Walter once again, staring at the stupid fucking rabbit Murphy used to carry around everywhere he went. Walter was all he had left of Murph. Connor took a deep breath and made a solemn vow, heard only by God.

He'd find Murphy. And he'd bring him home. If it was the last fucking thing he did.


End file.
